


Sing for me

by mitsukyu



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsukyu/pseuds/mitsukyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prince isn't what Kyuhyun expected. He saved his life, which Kyuhyun allows is a princely enough thing to do, in a theatrical kind of way. But he also smiles all the time and it's doing strange and annoying things to Kyuhyun's heart. (Like making him write really bad poetry. There should be a law.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing for me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunshineinwriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineinwriting/gifts).



> Dear sunshineinwriting, I really hope you enjoy this! <3 And thank you so much to I & I for the beta and handholding. <3
> 
> In a sea of Stuff I Made Up, the occasional bit of history does bob up: the Pear Garden existed (though likely being entirely different from what is described) and was the first royal acting and music academy in China, founded in the Tang dynasty. I couldn't not put Kyuhyun there when I discovered it.

As a king from long ago in the Garden's latest musical performance, conqueror of many and heroic savior to some more, Kyuhyun is satisfied that he looks and sounds spectacular, not to mention very noble indeed. 

 

In real life, not so much. 

 

一

"I think," Kyuhyun mumbles from where he's sitting on the ground in the forest clearing, arms wrapped around his knees, "that it should've been the other way around, really." 

The prince looks up from where he's cleaning the blood off his sword on a clump of grass. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

Kyuhyun presses his lips tightly together, too late. Now he's done it. It must be the shock talking. Normally he's sensible enough not to talk to the royal family like that. Or at all, come to think of it. He’s good at avoidance. 

It's also not every day one of them saves his life, however. 

"Really? Sword training has been a big part of my education." The man flashes a smile that lights up his face and makes Kyuhyun's stomach flop. "I don't think there’s much of an emphasis on it at the Pear Garden, though?" 

"Only stage fighting," Kyuhyun admits, and in the face of the gentle smile he finds himself adding, "and I'm not even very good at that." 

The prince laughs at that, loud and cheerful. 

"What's your name?" he asks. Kyuhyun blinks. 

"Um? Kyuhyun," he says, taken aback enough by the question that he forgets to give his Chinese name. 

The prince purses his lips in consideration, though his eyes still sparkle with amusement. 

"From Silla, then? Your accent doesn't betray you, Kyu... wahn?" he hazards hopefully. 

"Guixian," Kyuhyun offers instead, smile only slightly pained. 

"Guixian!" the prince repeats cheerfully. "It suits you. It's cute. Call me Zhou Mi." 

"Er. Of course. Prince Zhou Mi?" he tries, throwing in a haphazard bow, colliding his forehead with his knee in the process, but Zhou Mi is polite enough to only be silently amused. 

"I just meant," Kyuhyun continues awkwardly, “that it would probably be better to defend the prince than the prince defending... er, me." 

"I believe it's my job to protect my people." 

"Is it?" Kyuhyun asks, eyes wide, before he can stop himself. He’s probably still going to get killed for getting smart with the damn crown prince. But is it? In overly dramatic musical productions, sure, but in real life? Zhou Mi, to his credit, Kyuhyun supposes, just offers him a small smile and doesn't behead him at all. 

"It is." 

"You got blood on your robes though," Kyuhyun says wretchedly. He guesses the rich, decorated fabric costs more than he makes in several years. 

"Ah. Yes. That is a shame," Zhou Mi answers and he looks genuinely crestfallen for a fleeting moment. 

"Certainly worth it though," he adds. "To save you. Apart from anything else, I think your voice is far more beautiful than the finest painted silk." 

Kyuhyun sputters. He's sure his cheeks are at least as red as the stains on the cloth. 

"How do-?" he starts. The Prince smiles. 

"I take walks. I've heard you sing in the gardens. I could never bring myself to interrupt you,” he adds apologetically. 

 

二

"You should treat me. You are my senior, after all," Kyuhyun says, making big eyes at his friend as they pass the market stalls, food smells wafting from all directions. Ryeowook snorts and shakes his head. He's known Kyuhyun for far too long to easily fall for his puppy eyes. It’s a terrible thing, Kyuhyun thinks. He should make some new friends. 

"Barely," Ryeowook replies. "Hardly enough to count. And only in age, at that. I heard about the request from the Palace."

Kyuhyun makes a face at his friend’s shrewd look, turning and feigning interest in the wares of a convenient market stall.

"How?" he asks finally. "I only heard about it myself yesterday."

"News travels fast with so much nobility around," Ryeowook answers, half under his breath, though their speech should go unnoticed here. The streets of Chang'an are so full of strange tongues that no one pays them much attention, much less bothers to try and overhear. Kyuhyun enjoys watching the people go by, listening to all the different sounds. The language of the capital itself is most precious to him. It fills him like music does.

"I swear the only thing they do is gossip," Ryeowook adds, shaking his head.

"So unlike our own," Kyuhyun says, a smile tugging at his lips.

"True enough," Ryeowook admits. "I suppose there has to be something that makes us such good company." 

"And here I was thinking it was our many accomplishments," Kyuhyun replied in mock surprise

"They only say that to get us over here. Fresh gossip from all over the Empire, I’m sure."

"We're not quite part of the Empire yet, I should think."

"Our country at least isn't," Ryeowook sighs. Kyuhyun fidgets with his sleeve.

"Yes. Well. We're doing pretty well here."

Ryeowook shrugs. It’s hard to deny. 

“Especially now that you’ve made an impression on the crown prince,” he adds innocently. Kyuhyun glares at him but Ryeowook remains cheerfully unaffected.

“I think it’s lovely, Kyu-Kyu. You’re destined for great things, I’m sure,” he adds gently. 

“I’ll just embarrass myself terribly,” Kyuhyun groans. Ryewook pats his arm.

“Don’t worry. You do that anyway.” 

Kyuhyun shoves him, but it’s too easy to forgive Ryeowook. They make their way back to the Pear Garden but take the long way around so Kyuhyun can beg food off other people.

 

一

Kyuhyun knows he has a good voice. He wouldn't be living on the Palace grounds if he didn’t. His seniors at the Pear Garden frown at him and mutter a bit at his confidence, but they can never quite deny it either. And he knows he's better than Ryeowook, for example, even though he's the same age and gets heaped with about the same amount of praise. Ryeowook, in turn, believes he's better than Kyuhyun and this is how these things go. 

But to know and to be told so by Zhou Mi with his warm eyes and smile that makes Kyuhyun’s heart flutter are quite, quite different. 

Zhou Mi offers him a hand to help him to his feet. Part of Kyuhyun wants to step forward into his arms, wrap himself in an embrace until he feels warm all over, like stepping straight into the sun. 

He runs that thought by himself again. He’s fairly certain he’s going mad from delayed terror at nearly getting murdered. 

That’s all right, then. 

 

三

Kyuhyun can’t just accept falling in love with the blasted crown prince and his stupid smile. Of all people! It's inconvenient, that's what it is. There's far too much flowery romance in the songs and poems he dedicates his days to and thoughts of Zhou Mi haunt him at every one. Saving his life is a reasonably attractive quality, he supposes, but to Kyuhyun's consternation, the smile is much worse. Not to mention the legs that never end. He doesn’t even want to start on those. 

He's only just stopped short of scribbling romantic verses of his own to stuff under his pillow. And that, admittedly, because he knows he's horrendously bad at it. 

"Unattainable perfection," he laments to Ryeowook one night when he's had quite a lot to drink, "is a lot better in song than in real life." 

Ryeowook laughs at him. Then he pours him another drink to make up for it. 

 

一

He climbs up on Zhou Mi’s horse behind him, gingerly putting his arms around the prince's waist when Zhou Mi tells him to do so. Falling off a horse now would only add insult to injury. He can feel the warmth of Zhou Mi’s skin bleeding through the fabric under his hands. 

“What about… that?” he asks, nodding towards the slumped body on the ground. It is very obviously dead. Zhou Mi glances over.

“I’ll send some men back later.” 

He can’t turn around far enough to face Kyuhyun, but he reaches down to cover one of Kyuhyun’s hands with his own, squeezing it briefly. 

Kyuhyun wonders if Zhou Mi sees it as his duty to comfort his people as well. 

 

四

Kyuhyun isn't very good at teaching. If he's honest with himself, though he rarely cares to be, Ryeowook is better at it. He has a patience for people that Kyuhyun lacks, and while he frequently suspects Ryeowook criticizes his charges even more sharply than he does, he at least has the wherewithal to do it in Korean so no one is the wiser and frail lordly egos don't get crushed under his elegant boots.

Kyuhyun, on the other hand, takes the view that people should be made aware when they have all the musical talent of a cabbage. Somehow this isn't always appreciated. 

He brightens at that thought, though. He gave his heart to music a long time ago. If Zhou Mi sounds awful enough, painfully off-key enough, not even that face, not even that smile is going to save him. 

It helps to tell himself that, anyway. 

 

五

He stares. 

He’s still staring when Zhou Mi opens his eyes again. He knows he’s probably being creepy but he can’t seem to manage to unfreeze himself. 

“Was that okay?” Zhou Mi asks hesitantly. Kyuhyun doesn’t respond. He’s still trying to marshal his thoughts into a semi-coherent response. 

“Guixian?” Zhou Mi sounds legitimately concerned now and makes to get up. 

“No!” he croaks, almost flailing in panic. He clears his throat. “Um. That is. I’m fine. Yes. Fine.” 

“How was that?” Zhou Mi asks nervously. “I know I’ve never really had training but I’ve always enjoyed singing so I thought…” 

Kyuhyun makes a vague sound and waves his hands around.

“I think you’re pretty good,” he says slowly, deliberately. If Zhou Mi wasn’t a crown prince, which is a serious position with weighty responsibilities (Kyuhyun guesses, entirely based on his knowledge of classical theater) he would have sworn the man did a happy wiggle. The smile is certainly back. 

In a moment of weakness and self-loathing, Kyuhyun has written poetry about that smile. He hadn’t missed it, though, in that moment; the curiously intense look Zhou Mi got when he sang more than made up for it.

“Really? I’m so glad, Guixian!”

Kyuhyun scoffs.

“I only said it was pretty good. In fact, I’m not even sure. You should do it again,” Kyuhyun says in a moment of inspiration. 

“Again?” 

“Yes. So I can make sure.” 

Zhou Mi looks uncertain but nods. Kyuhyun congratulates himself on an excellent plan. 

He wants to listen to Zhou Mi’s voice forever. 

 

一

“Will you sing for me?” Zhou Mi asks suddenly, his hand on Kyuhyun’s elbow to stop him. 

“What, here?” he asks, bewildered. 

“No,” Zhou Mi says quickly, letting go of his arm. “No, of course not.” He forces out a laugh. Kyuhyun frowns at his back. He wonders if he has offended the prince, but…

“You should take care of the horse, probably,” he points out, awkwardly. His knowledge of horses is vague at best but he’s pretty sure you can’t just leave them there and get on with things. They need… food and such, he concludes. 

“Yes. You’re right, I should.” 

“Maybe you could visit?” Kyuhyun asks, and hopefulness twists his voice in a weird way. He doesn’t think he could sing now. He’s too proud to try. 

He hates himself for that. Later. Often. 

Zhou Mi looks back at him over his shoulder. 

“Visit?” 

“The theater,” Kyuhyun clarifies. “I sing best at the theater.” 

Zhou Mi nods and turns back to the horse. 

Kyuhyun trudges the rest of the way back to the Pear Garden with his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. 

 

六

Zhou Mi’s face is closer than he expects when Kyuhyun opens his eyes again. He blinks in surprise. 

“You’re crying,” Zhou Mi observes.

“I’m not really,” he says. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve and Zhou Mi chuckles.

“It’s a sad song,” Kyuhyun states defensively. 

“It is,” Zhou Mi admits. “I’m pleased I could make you cry. I mean...” he continues when he sees Kyuhyun’s frown, but Kyuhyun stops him. 

“I know what you mean,” he sniffs. He falls silent. He doesn’t really know what to say. ‘You did well’ hardly covers it. Anything that does cover it is far too much. Zhou Mi is still leaning far too close. He doesn’t say anything. 

It’s Zhou Mi, at last, who breaks the silence. 

“Sing for me?” he whispers. 

“What, now?” 

“Now. _Here._ I came to hear your voice.” 

But I don’t think I can sing after that, Kyuhyun doesn’t say. You broke my heart and mended it in one song and no one has made me cry before. I’m too proud, he refuses to say. And far too scared. 

He looks at Zhou Mi, leaning in with his hands resting on his knees. He doesn’t really look like a prince anymore, Kyuhyun thinks. Maybe there’s something aristocratic about the nose and the cheekbones. But not the wide eyes, he thinks, not the parted mouth. They’re far more precious than that. 

He closes his eyes. 

And he sings because it’s what he does. It’s what he has always done. And in the darkness he knows he does it well. 

He doesn’t stop until Zhou Mi presses his mouth against his.


End file.
